Behind City Lights
by fantasysrealist
Summary: The once-beautiful city of Paris is darkened by a crime ring-the Akumas, lead by a man only known as Hawkmoth. Marinette is tired of the constant fear and, though she's terrified, goes out and does something about it, behind the law's back. Ladybug is a mystery to most. Some say she's the hero the city needs. But some prefer the term 'vigilante'.
1. Chapter 1

Anyone who met Marinette Dupain-Cheng would say that she was a sweet girl, who smiled at strangers on the way to school and helped her parents in the bakery.

Right now, Paris was no place for a sweet girl.

"Bye, Dad! Bye, Mom! See you later!" Marinette closed the bakery door behind her. She hefted her backpack onto her back, clutching the strap tightly. The sidewalk of her street was cracked and dirty, with empty soda cans lying every way you turned.

A block later, she heard it.

"Please-stop-" It came out as a whimper, a plea. Following it, a brief snort of laughter. The man- she assumed it was a man, from the deep voice- began listing what they would do next. As she passed the alley, her foot landed next to a penny. Marinette knew better than to pick it up.

She arrived at school early and out of breath from running, as she often did these days. As Marinette walked down the loud, moving halls to her locker, she made sure no one noticed as she checked to see if anyone was hurt. All she could find was a black eye on Max and Kim's bruised knuckles. Almost sighing in relief, she opened her locker and began unpacking her things for classes.

"So you're saying it's the police's fault." Alix put her hands on her hips, ready for battle

"I'm not saying anything, I just think that the law enforcement in this city is- well -it sucks!" Kim exclaimed. "People get hurt and they just have to what, file a report?"

Max pushed his glasses up his nose. "Yeah, Kim, that's kinda what the police are about. Doing nothing is what they get paid for. "

Sabrina elbowed her way to the center of the crowd. "Excuse me, but that's my father you're talking about," she snapped.

"Honestly, Sabrina, I wouldn't be surprised if your dad was in the Akumas, at his pay rate."Sabrina gasped, almost comically, and Kim turned to face the rest of them. "Don't you see! That's the problem with this city. There's no one we can trust to fight them, because no one knows who the real enemy is."

In the silence from this solemn proclamation, the bell suddenly rang. Everyone sprang away from the group to gather their bags, except Marinette. She was too busy thinking about Kim's words.

 _There's no one we can trust to fight them, because no one knows who the real enemy is._

Marinette kicked her chair away from the desk and started spinning wildly. Tikki looked at her with a _what's wrong?_ sort of glance.

"Another Akuma victim? Another one? I don't know what to do, Tikki. I'm scared-well, everyone's scared!- and I want to help, but I'm just a kid!" She got up. "And I know that they dragged kids into it a long time ago, and-don't look at me like that!" The poor hamster hadn't done anything. "But I'm worried that someone I love is going to get hurt, and that I won't be able to help when they do. I'm useless, Tikki. I can bake- and I talk to my pet _hamster_ and-" Her eyes widened as an idea popped into her head, but she shook it off as soon as it occured to her.

But the thought persisted. It held on, through dinner and sleep and breakfast the next morning. In fact, it held on up until school the next day.

Marinette was halfway up the school steps when she heard the yell. She visibly winced at the sound of it. It hurt, sounded like someone had died, and her heart immediately started beating faster. She dashed into the school to see what had happened- but was stopped halfway through the door by the sight of Ivan, sobbing as though his heart was broken.

Marinette had never seen Ivan cry before. No one had seen Ivan cry. Everyone had stopped in their tracks to stare, but no one had helped him. She shook off her fear and kept running, almost tripping over her own feet to get to him. When she got there, he didn't even seem to notice her until she put her hand on his back. He flinched, but leaned into the touch, tears still cascading down his face. She slowly rubbed his back, feeling his sobs shake his body.

Footsteps. They came closer, until orange sneakers stopped near Marinette's face. She looked up to see Adrien, wringing his hands. What did he want? He couldn't want to talk to her- not now- _No! She couldn't get distracted_. He could help. She looked up, his eyes met hers, and she motioned to Ivan with a twitch of the head. Adrien nodded and knelt next to him, making soothing noises as he patted Ivan on the shoulder awkwardly.

Marinette couldn't help it. "What happened, Ivan?"

"Mylene-she's-she's-" A fresh wave of sobs rippled over Ivan as he continued. "She's hurt. Bad. Sh-she got in the- in the way-" He bowed his head as his body trembled.

Marinette's eyes locked with Adrien's, and the look seemed to say everything. He looked shocked, and scared. She was terrified, but yesterday's idea-the stupid, stupid idea- was crawling back into her head. And it wouldn't go away.

Marinette had done many stupid things in her life. But as she looked in the mirror, this was by far the stupidest. She didn't even look the part, with her stupid, bright red, only-tank-top-I-have, shirt. Her accidentally-not fashionably ripped black leggings. Her too-big black hoodie. And, of course, her pigtails, tied with hairbands with ribbon. Ribbon!

The real problem, of course, was that everyone could clearly see her face.

She turned away from the mirror with a frown, trying to remember if she had anything in her closet. Her face brightened as she remembered that for some reason, one school day, she had worn a bandana. Digging it out of her closet, however, was a different story. She had painted it for costume day at school, she recalled, but she had taken it off at lunch because Chloe had teased her endlessly about her "baby costume".

Unfortunately, a bandana was a bandana. And at least it matched the tank top.

She tied it onto her face, painted-on spots and all, and slowly climbed the ladder to the roof.

The stars were beautiful tonight, she noticed. _If I die tonight, at least the sky will be beautiful._

She looked over the edge of the balcony, seeing the cobblestoned street below. She lifted one leg over the barrier, then the other. Holding on tight to the rail behind her, she second-guessed herself.

 _She wouldn't actually do this. She couldn't actually do this. What kind of person did what she was about to do? She-_

She let go.

Marinette let go of the barrier and jumped off the roof.

She slid down, turning as she did so. When she reached the bottom, she grabbed the edge and hung for a second until she dropped down.

Now it was just Marinette Dupain-Cheng, the Akumas, and the looming skyline above her.


	2. Chapter 2

The moon shone down onto the streets of Paris, darkening the back alleys and covering a young girl as she crept along the shadows.

Marinette really wished she had thought this through more. Her breath was hot, trapped against her face, and the humid air was thick and heavy. Not to mention the fact that she had no way of getting back inside. Jumping off the roof was fun and all until you got trapped outside in 70 degree weather with a hoodie.

A crash from a few streets over startled her out of her thoughts. Unless she heard shouting, the noise was likely someone taking out their trash.

 _Maybe I should head over anyways…_

Right on cue, a man's voice cried out.

Marinette stopped herself before she could go anywhere, thinking. This was a turning point for her, a crossroads. There were two ways this could go. She could risk life and limb for her city every night, come home with bruises and scrapes and lies for anyone who noticed. Or she could stay...Marinette. The girl who talked to her hamster and had a crush on a model. The one that she knew. The one she was happy as.

But could she always be happy as Marinette?

Now that she'd stepped a toe over the line, her body longed for more. She longed to taste blood, to go under everyone's gaze as she became a hero and a legend. The bandana over her face compelled her to talk, to act as though she was someone else. She could do anything when no one knew it was her, good or bad.

Not to mention that someday, what nearly broke Ivan might become of her as well. She might see Nino, bleeding. Alya, broken. Adrien…no. She couldn't let that happen.

She turned around and pushed off the ground, running to the source of the sound. She knew how she would fight, how they would fall. She could practically hear the sound that the Akuma would make as they crashed to the ground. The _click_ of handcuffs as the streets became safer.

Or she thought she could, until she crashed into a man in the dark. His shirt smelled like cigar smoke, fur, and something...something metallic. And there was a drip from somewhere, probably a gutter, that was landing on her hand. It was altogether unpleasant. But Marinette was kind enough to let someone who had done no harm go free. She backed up, apologizing the whole time.

"I'm so sorry, sir, I wasn't looking where I was going. It's my fault realy, and- oh _shit_."

The man had stepped out of the shadow of the building, and now Marinette could understand the drip. The strange, metallic smell.

He was covered in blood. His shirt was almost wet with it, and it was falling from his sleeves, from his face, from his hands.

Marinette's own hands flew to her mouth, even though the man couldn't see it behind the bandana. She was shaking like a leaf, heroic fantasies out the window. Oh, why had she ever thought that this would be a good idea?

 _Jump. Do it for Nino. Do it for Alya. Do it for Adrien, do it for your parents, just do it!_

Marinette was ashamed to say that she bolted.

Legs pumping, she dashed down the alley. There was a roar from the man as he saw her, then heavy footsteps, getting closer and closer and closer. She was breathing hard, never having run for more than a few minutes. As the man's footsteps grew closer, her feet slowed unconsciously, and she cursed having walked in gym.

Ahead of her, Marinette saw the end of the alley. She'd have to face him. But her legs were aching, her body tired, and he had a weapon. A knife, by the looks of it. So she ran headfirst at the bricks at the back and tried to think of a plan.

She chanced a look back to see that he was about six feet away, and he was waving his knife like no tomorrow. The knife had dried blood on it, and it suddenly dawned on Marinette that she could end up as the blood on the blade. Swallowing her nausea, she looked forward again to find that she was a few feet away from the wall. She had no plan.

Her body reacted without her thinking about it, feet sticking in the brick for just enough time to jump- _one, two, three!_ \- and push off, over the man. He turned around, obviously surprised, and just confused enough for Marinette to smack his hand, knife flying out of it. It hit the ground spinning, and the man followed it with his eyes.

He looked up to see Marinette flying at him, foot outstretched. The foot made contact- with the man's crotch, and he bent over in pain. She grabbed his arm and, leaping over him, pulled it behind him, forcing him to the ground to avoid dislocating his shoulder. She began heaving his other arm to where she could tie them together and when he began resisting, she punched him in the face.

Simple as that.

By the time she was done tying him up, he couldn't move his arms or his legs. But Marinette still needed to do something about the poor man. She couldn't pick him up.

"But I could drag him," she spoke aloud for the first time in nearly an hour. She looked around, and her eyes fell upon a board. "Hmm…"

Marinette had nearly reached the police station by the time the man finally spoke.

"Damn you," he spat. Marinette halted the board she had rigged the man to. She turned around, slowly, and it was all worth it to see the fear in his eyes.

"I'm sorry?" she inquired, head tilted.

The man seemed to gain more faith as he spoke. "I told you to go _fuck_ yourself," he growled. Marinette walked over, twirling the knife in her fingers, gratified to see that he was at least a little bit afraid of her. "I'm afraid I just don't understand something. Could you help me to?"

He seemed cautious. "What do you mean?"  
"I mean, how could a man like, well, like _you_ be in a genius group like the Akumas?" The man stared at her, dumbfounded, until she spoke again. "Enlighten me."

"How dare you- the Boyles have been a part of the Akumas for generations!" He seemed to realize his mistake as Marinette smiled down at him.

The next day, the police were quite baffled to take out the trash to an enormous man handcuffed to the bin. The one policeman brave enough to take the bright pink sticky note off his chest read it out to the others, inside, the man in a cell.

 _Dear officers,_

 _As you seem incapable of taking care of my city, I've decided to clean it up myself. The man's name is Mr. Boyle, as he told me. If you would take a look at the blood on his shirt, and on the knife in the board, as well as the knife's fingerprints, you will likely find the victim of his unfortunate crimes. Hopefully, the fingerprints will be enough to convict this man. God knows I worked hard enough to capture him._

 _Thank you for your cooperation,_

 _-Ladybug_

Back in her own home, safe and sound, Marinette pulled the bedcovers closer to her chest as she sighed in her sleep. Two red hair ties lay inside of her closet, underneath a freshly washed black hoodie and a bright red tank top. Not to forget, of course, a black-spotted bandana.


	3. Chapter 3

Ladybug dashed around the corner, quickly hopping from the ground to a trashcan to a dumpster to a windowsill, about 10 feet above the ground. She glanced down for a moment, watching the hollow-cheeked man skid around the corner and look around frantically as to where she had gone. _He won't have to worry for too long,_ she thought as she dropped. Her shadow grew over him and he looked up, eyes widening almost comically. Her thighs tightened around his neck and she twisted, pulling him up and over as she flipped. He landed on the ground, breath knocked out of him. Possibly a few broken ribs, too. She checked his pockets and, sure enough, there was the weed that he had been selling. She also found a few thousand dollars.

 _I'll only take a bit. After all, I deserve it._

As Marinette walked into school the next day, she was immediately mobbed. Panicking for a second, she nearly elbowed the attacker in the throat before the thick hair in her face convinced her that it was her best friend. Alya had her phone out, and was waving it in Marinette's face.

"Mari! Mari! Look look look look look!" The phone was still moving too much for Marinette to read, so she grabbed it and held it in front of her as Alya peeked over her shoulder.

 **Ladybug's 50th capture: A Celebration**

Marinette peeked over her shoulder to see Alya's face, which was practically vibrating.

"It's another article about Ladybug," she deadpanned.

Alya practically snatched the phone out of her hand as she sped up her words. "No, no, no! It's not just another article about Ladybug! It's her fiftieth capture!"  
Marinette looked Alya straight in the eyes and told her, "It's just another capture. She must have done what, fifty of those?"

Truth be told, she didn't know why Alya idolized Ladybug so much. She fought crimes. It hurt. Sometimes she came to school with foundation over the bruises on her neck or band-aids over self-stitched wounds. But she wasn't any more interesting because of it.

Alya ignored Marinette's words. "I wish that I could do an interview with her. My followers would love it. Hell, I'd love it!"

Marinette shook her head with a smile. "That would be cool."

Alya shrugged, and started walking. Marinette began to walk with her, until a thought struck her and she stopped, biting her lip as she thought. Alya turned around and looked at her with one eyebrow raised. Marinette hurried to catch up.

"Sorry, I just- what if you could interview her?"

Alya snorted. "Girl, that's one of the craziest ideas you've had, and you stole your crush's phone."

"What about her crush's phone?" Adrien walked up, Nino close behind.

Marinette's hands began flying around her face, while Alya frantically backpeadled. "Oh, nothing, I said that she left her crush a message, on his phone. Nothing important." She smiled at them, Adrien looking shocked, and quickly turned back to Marinette with a vice grip on her shoulder. "So, what were you saying about interviewing Ladybug?"

Marinette felt vaguely threatened, and was still rather freaked out from the crush incident, but she told Alya anyways. "You-you could leave a note behind the dumpster. That's where she leaves the criminals." Alya looked suspicious, so she added, "I-I read it in the newspaper."

Alya's mouth dropped open. "You know...you might just be right!" She laughed. "Come on, let's get to class!"

As Alya ran off, Marinette began to follow her. She turned around to wave at Adrien and Nino as she walked. Nino waved back, but Adrien was checking something on his phone. She sighed and turned back around, jogging to catch up with Alya.

The thief ran down the street, Ladybug in hot pursuit. They sped into an alley and she followed them, practically breathing down their neck. As she turned the corner, however, she felt the cold barrel of a gun pressed to her chest as the thief smiled in triumph.

"Hands in the air!" Their high voice cut through the night. Ladybug slowly raised her hands, and when the thief began to push them, she put up no resistance. They walked silently through the streets until Ladybug spoke.

"Tell me, do you always carry an empty gun around with you at night?"

The thief's breath caught, and Ladybug turned around. Now that the threat was gone, her motions were looser. This was especially noticable when she punched the woman in the face, knocking her out in one blow.

Ladybug dropped the thief, still unconsious, next to the dumpster behind the police station. She began to tie the woman up. As she knelt down, she noticed a bright yellow post-it note on the side of the building. She quickly secured the knot, then reached over to grab it. As she straightened up, she read the words written in careful handwriting.

She couldn't believe that Alya had actually done it, that Alya had listened so closely to her when she thought Marinette didn't care.

 _Dear Ladybug,_

 _My name is Alya Cesaire, and I write for the Ladyblog. I'd love to interview you live, but for now I'll stick to the written word. I have a few questions that I'd really appreciate it if you answered._

 _Why did you choose to become Ladybug?_

 _What makes you conceal your identity?_

 _What's your real name?_

 _How old are you?_

 _What do you think of 50 captures?_

 _Do you intend to continue your life as Ladybug?_

 _What do you look like?_

 _Thank you so much,_

 _Alya Cesaire_

 _P.S. There is a notebook under the dumpster._

Ladybug reached under the dumpter, making a face as she did, and pulled out a notebook that smelled disgusting. Opening it to the first page, she saw Alya's chemistry notes-with her own cursive handwriting in the margins.

 _Be sure to disguise your handwriting, I guess._

She smiled, and picked up the pen.

The sun was just barely peeking over the horizon as Alya snuck out her door and crept down the street, heading for the police station. She felt as though it was Christmas morning, and she was walking downstairs to see if Santa had come.

When she arrived behind the police station, she found two things awaiting her-an unconsious woman, and an absolutely filthy notebook. Alya nearly shrieked as she ran over and, despite every urge she had in her body, picked it up to take it home to read.

As she shut her bedroom door behind her, Alya immediately sat down onto her bed and opened the notebook. The handwriting in it was in absurdly neat print, as though someone was trying to make sure their writing wasn't recognized.

 _Dear Alya Cesaire,_

 _Hi! It was awesome to get your letter. I'm Ladybug-_ when she reached this line, she really did squeal- _and here are your questions!_

Why did you choose to become Ladybug?

 _I decided to become Ladybug to protect my city. Someone at my school was badly injured simply walking home, and it made me feel as though no one was safe. I wanted to change that, and here I am now. Don't get me wrong, though, I was terrified at first. In fact, when I saw my first Akuma, I ran!_

What makes you conceal your identity?

 _Protection, mostly. If Hawkmoth or any of the Akumas found out who I really was, they could use my family or my friends against me. Also, it makes it much easier to sneak out at night._

What's your real name?

 _Lady Bug! No, like I said before, I can't say._

How old are you?

 _I'm 15, and in 10th grade._ Alya realized that Ladybug might be in her class. She nearly screamed.

What do you think of 50 captures?

 _It's incredible, really. I can't believe that I'm making a difference. I hope that you and everyone else feels the same._

Do you intend to continue your life as Ladybug?

 _Yes, I would like to continue to make the city a bit safer to walk through, so that what happened to Mylene-_ Alya screamed aloud, hearing her parents come running up the stairs _._

There was a picture. There was a picture stuffed into the next page of the notebook. And if Alya hadn't dropped the notebook in shock after hearing that Ladybug was in her class, she never would have found it. But she did.

It showed a small girl with her hair in pigtails, red ribbons flowing down her back. She had an oversized black hoodie that dwarfed her petite figure, with a shiny red tank top beneath it. A pair of ripped black leggings showed skin beneath them, her legs surprisingly toned and muscular for her size. But the most remarkable thing about her was her red bandana, with the painted-on black spots.

Alya's mother burst into the room. Seeing nothing threatening, she sighed and glared at Alya as she crossed her hands over her chest. Alya knew that she'd have trouble talking her way out of this one, but it was worth it.

 _I might KNOW Ladybug. I might be her friend. She might sit behind me in class, or bump into me in the hallways._

 _I wonder who it is._


	4. Chapter 4

_An Exculsive Interview with Ladybug Herself!_

A picture of a girl filled the window of the enourmous computer, a picture Adrien had already seen so many times it was practically burned into his retinas. Still he leaned in for a closer look, trying to find a detail he had missed. He played this game every time he saw the picture- every time he saw the article- and he always managed to find something new. How the tone in her legs stood out in the leggings. The one spot on her bandana that was wobbly. Just how blue her eyes were.

 _I'm 15, and in 10th grade._

Ladybug might be in his class! He sighed dreamily, picturing what she must look like without her bandana. Did she have a strong jawline, or a wide nose? What about her lips? Did she have freckles? If she had freckles, he might _die_ of longing.

 _I wonder if I could meet Ladybug,_ he mused as he swiveled back and forth. As he got up he picked up Plagg, not caring if the cat's black fur got on his white shirt. "What do you think, Plagg? Would Ladybug love me as much as I love her, if she knew me?" The cat stared at him, as if to say, "She probably already knows you, dumbass." Adrien elected to ignore him and plopped down on the couch, thinking.

He couldn't think inside. He never could. Jumping up, he ran to the door and called out, "Nathalie!" After a few moments, the woman appeared, still with clipboard in hand, still impeccable.  
"What do you want, Adrien?" She sounded tired, but Adrien was too preoccupied to notice.

"Can I-" he caught himself. "May I walk over to the park?" She stared down at him. "Just for a bit? Please?"

Nathalie sighed. "Adrien, you know your father doesn't want you to leave the house unless you have to."

His face fell, and his shoulders drooped. "Fine." He began to shut the door. The only thing that stopped him from closing it all the way was Nathalie herself.

"Adrien, please-"

He cut her off. "Just leave me alone. Isn't that what Father wants anyways? For me to be alone?" He spoke the last few words with venom in his tone, and watched as Nathalie stepped aside and allowed him to shut the door. With his hand still on the handle, he spoke.  
"Thanks."

Adrien walked over to his windows, dejected. He stared out, longing for fresh air, for the breeze through his hair, for the smell of flowers. The grass of the park waved tauntingly.

People laughed outside. People were happy outside. What good was having a beautiful house if you could never leave it?

He was startled out of his thoughts by a _bang!_ from outside. Flinching away from where he had been leaning on the window, Adrien saw someone fall to the hard stone of the road. The man across from him was big, burly, and waving a gun in his scar-covered hand. Adrien's eyes widened as he heard the man say, "Ladybug can't help you now. She only comes out at night."

Before he could do anything, a hand grabbed him from behind. Adrien whirled around, hands at his sides where his fencing swords would be, but it was just a servant of his father's.

"Come on, sir! Get away from the glass!" The words were quiet and forceful, but practically dripping with despiration. She was pulling him in the direction of the couch.

"We have to do something! The boy out there is _dying,_ for god's sake!" He wrenched his arm away from the servant, holding it close to him. " _You_ follow _me_!

He ran out the door of his room with the servant girl following him, still begging him to stop. His quick footsteps on the stairs were the loudest thing in the otherwise silent house. He froze for a second at the bottom of the staircase, causing the servant to crash into him. He wobbled, then steadied, and offered a hand to the girl.

"My father, is he safe?" Adrien didn't know why he suddenly remembered, but he knew that he couldn't go out unless he knew that his father wouldn't suffer because of his actions.

"Yes, sir, he's in a safe room…" He nodded and dashed off, not hearing the end of her sentence.

"Just like you should be."

The marble floor of the entrance to the house rang as Adrien sprinted across them and threw open the door. He let out an involuntary sigh of relief as he realized that the muscular man had long left, but the breath caught in his chest when he saw the figure on the ground. He was big, muscular...and familiar.

"Oh, no," breathed Adrien as he recognized Ivan. The boy was lying on the ground, having fallen in a way that Adrien couldn't have seen from his window. He rushed over.

"Ivan, hey, Ivan, listen to me." He knelt on the ground, ignoring the blood pooling there that was soaking his jeans. Murmuring encouragement, he tried to look around to see where the bullet hit. He sighed in relief when he realized that it just barely hit, lodging in Ivan's side. _That didn't stop it from bleeding, though,_ Adrien registered through the haze in his brain from 'oh my god, my friend just got shot'. He peeled off his shirt and pressed it into the wound, muttering apologies for Ivan's groan of pain. He reached for his phone and with one hand pressing down, he shakily called the police.

"Hello? Hi, my name is Adrien Agreste, and my friend just got shot." The woman on the other end was kind, and made sure that he knew what to do and where they should send the cars.

"Thank- thank you," he stuttered into the phone, and turned his attention back to Ivan, who was trying to reach towards him.

"Adrien-" Ivan seemed to breathe his name.

"Ivan- you don't have to move- what do you need?" Adrien was frantic. The wound might not be serious, but Ivan was still bleeding, and there was a _hole in him there was a hole in Ivan._

"He shot Mylene, too- I was just trying- just trying-" Waves of horror were washing over him, every one worse.

"Shh, shh, it's okay. You did what you were trying to do." Adrien was trying to keep Ivan calm. But he was also trying to keep himself calm, because if he wasn't calm, Ivan wouldn't be calm.

The phone had fallen from his hand a long time ago.

The police sirens pulled Adrien from his thoughts for the second time that day. As Ivan was being carried away, Adrien felt a hand on his back. He looked up to see his father glaring down at him.

He looked down in shame as Gabriel spoke to the police about what had happened.

The hand on his back had moved to his arm long ago, gripping hard. It had dragged him to his father's office, where he stood now. Bloody jeans and all.

Mr. Agreste was sitting at his desk. The only thing that was giving his facade of calm away were his eyes.

"Adrien. I asked you to do one thing, what was that?"

Adrien's gaze dropped to his shoes. "Stay away from the fighting."

"And what did you do?"

He let out a sigh before looking up at his father. "I tried to help, Father, was that really a bad thing? I mean-"  
"Shut up," his father snapped. "I'm sick of you getting involved in things that aren't your buisness!" He stood up in a sharp motion. "If you'd have listened to me for ONCE in your goddamn life, you wouldn't have ruined your clothes, and I wouldn't have reporters after me constantly!" Adrien flinched away.

"You know what they say?" Adrien shook his head as his dad leaned over the desk at him. "They ask, 'why can't you control your son?' 'Why does he get in so many fights?' And you know what I say?"

A small "no" came out of Gabe's son's mouth.

"I say, 'he doesn't know when to stop'. And you don't know when to stop, do you? You just keep on going, going and going and going," Adrien's father loomed over him as he stepped closer, "and you just. Never. Know. When. To. Stop." Mr. Agreste finsihed in front of his son, standing there. He raised his hand threateningly. He began to swing it at Adrien's face as he shrunk away-

And his hand halted, an inch away from Adrien's fearful face.

"But I do. Next time, it might be different." Mr. Agreste walked away, leaving Adrien cowering.

The blood dripping off his jeans made an interesting pattern on the persian carpet, especially if you combined it with Adrien's trembling.


	5. Chapter 5

" _Do you think that he needs anything, ma'am?"_

" _I think he could use a lot of things,-"_ a grim chuckle- " _but nothing physical. A lot's happened today, after all. I think the poor boy just needs to be alone."_

Adrien lay sprawled out on the sofa, listening to the maids outside. They didn't know that he could hear them, or that he wanted to throw open the door and shout, "No! I don't want to be alone! Please!'

But he couldn't, so he lay where he was and listened to the rain, and pretended everything was okay.

Ivan almost died- because Mylene almost died. They were so close, they couldn't leave the other behind. He laughed without humor, and rolled over on the couch. The rain kept pounding on the roof, on the windows, as if it were knocking. Adrien couldn't take it anymore. Grabbing a throw pillow, he pushed it into the side of his head, breathing deeply as the storm subsided into a whisper in his head.

God, why was he so broken?

He couldn't even stand to be alone. Why couldn't he just be happy by himself? Nino was happy by himself. Alya was happy by herself. Marinette was happy by herself.

He pushed the pillow further into his head at the thought of Marinette. The look of panic on her face as Alya told him she had left a message for her crush. The excitement he felt as he checked his phone contrasted with the almost crushing disappointment as he saw that he had _No Missed Calls_. "She doesn't want you!" he burst out, almost without thinking about it. "And why would she? Last time I checked, you were a clingy piece of shit who thinks he looks good enough for someone as cute as her to notice you!" He curled into the couch, but couldn't stop himself from continuing. "Just another guy who can't think of her as a friend, goddamn it, and even if you were to date her, where would you take her? Your father never lets you out of the house!" He was taking deeper breaths now as his eyes were spilling over. "She deserves better than a cheap asshole with a father who hates him-" he spat out the last words- "and no mother."

He had pulled the pillow from his head to his chest a long time ago, and now he hugged it as he heard the rain pour full force again.

Nearly an hour later, Adrien began to slowly pull himself up from the couch. The rain had slowed to a pitter-patter, and somehow he felt both better and worse than he had before. But he had needed to get it out. Tossing the soggy pillow to the side, he dragged his feet as he walked towards the bathroom. Adrien decided that he must feel like someone would the day after they'd had a lot to drink. He pinched the bridge of his nose to try and keep away the headache, and groaned as he flicked on the lights.

When he turned around, though, his hands dropped to his sides. He looked, to put it simply, awful. His eyes were puffy, his face was red, his hair was everywhere, and he looked for all the world as though he had just fallen down the stairs. Several times.

He smiled dopily at his reflection for a moment before he realized that he was a _model,_ and that he _couldn't have puffy eyes_ because he had a _photoshoot tomorrow._ He was scrolling through the Google results for "get rid of puffy eyes fast" when something caught his eye and he looked up. One of the drawers of the bathroom cabinet was open. Adrien groaned and shook his head. He began to talk to his reflection in the mirror as he closed it.

"Why do the maids _always_ have to come in here to borrow my-" A thought suddenly dawned on him, and he scrambled for the cabinet to look inside. He couldn't believe he had almost forgotten.

The drawer was filled with cosmetic products, from foundation to eyebrow gel to little tubes of lip gloss. Adrien looked back at his phone. This time, though, he wasn't looking at the articles in Safari. He was looking at the time. It was nearly five.

 _Perfect._

He grabbed what he needed.

By the time his phone had reached six o'clock, Adrien sported a flawless face, perfect eyebrows, cat's eye liner, and no eye bags to be seen. He grinned at his reflection, but it slowly faded as he realized that his father would never let him out like this. He sighed, ready to take it off, but as he reached for the wipes something told him to keep it.

"Why not?" it said, a little thought growing stronger. "Why not keep it? Go out." He shook his head, but he still walked out of the bathroom with flawless eyeliner.

As he walked over to the couch to pick up the pillow he had thrown, Adrien spotted Ladybug, still staring at him from his computer monitor. It felt like it had been years since he had seen the wobbly spot on her mask.

 _She could be out there, right now._

He could practically see her, legs outstretched as her foot collided with her opponent's throat. Her hands would be moving furiously as she took out the man's partner. But just as quickly as the daydream started, it took a turn for the worse as she was slowly but steadily backed into a corner as more and more thieves and gunmen appeared around her. Now, all he could see were her eyes, shining with fear, and her voice crying out, "Help!"

His eyes snapped open. _Oh my god._ Looking back at the picture still up on the monitor, he saw Ladybug in a whole new light. Her hair was in pigtails, cute to wear but easy to pull with. Her arms and legs were muscular, but still small. And worst of all, she seemed tiny. Like, 90 pounds soaking wet kind of tiny.

"Oh my god," he whispered, half to himself. "What if they ambush her? She needs-"

 _She needs someone there to help her. To protect her. She needs a partner._

It took a moment before Adrien made his choice. Though it was a split-second decision on his part, and he realized how dangerous it would be, he couldn't help giggling

 _Plagg, I'm going out tonight!_

A red button-up flew through the air. It was closely followed by a gray tank top, a denim jacket, and a pair of khakis. They arced across the room , sleeves flapping behind them, only to land one after another on Adrien's bed, next to his cat.

Plagg yowled as a white dress shirt landed on top of him, and Adrien peeked out from his closet. _d_ Knee-deep in old clothes, he was trying to find something- _anything_ \- black to wear to go outside without his father seeing.

"Aha!"

Adrien smiled in victory as he pulled out a hanger with a black, shapeless, blob of fabric with something dangling off. His grin faded slightly as he realized that the blob seemed to be an attempt to make his own Halloween costume. Sure, it had everything he needed, but gloves with toe beans? A bandana with whiskers? _Really?_ He sighed as he began to pull the shirt on.

A little while later, he looked into the mirror. Adrien's mouth dropped open underneath the bandana as he saw himself. Yes, the costume was childish...but honestly, he filled it out well. When his eyes hit his face, though, he gulped. You could still see Adrien Agreste, the model, even under the bandana and eyeliner. (Yes, he had kept the eyeliner.) A thought struck him, and he dashed into the bathroom. About ten minutes, five "fuck!"s, three "shit!'s and seven "god _damn_ it"s, Adrien walked back into the room, cat-eye contacts in place and eyes a bit redder than before.

He couldn't believe he still had those, to be honest. That shoot was years ago. Giving himself a once-over in the mirror, he nodded and flashed a thumbs up at his reflection.

Now his attention turned to the windows, as they were probably the only way that he could get out of the house. He opened one, shivering at the sudden breeze. Adrien stared down.

 _That's a long drop_.

He almost walked out then and there. But the hero on his computer seemed to nod, saying, "Go ahead. You can do this."

He glanced down again, seeing the two stories again. There were bushes at the bottom. Adrien stuck his fencing swords in his belt, shrugged-

And jumped out the window.


	6. Chapter 6

There was a split-second of terror as Adrien fell, then he landed in the bushes beneath his window. His hood was on his head now, with its little ears folded over onto the jacket beneath it. _It must have blown up during the fall_ , he thought. As he finally climbed out of the shrubbery onto the ground, something fell to the ground with a clang that seemed, to Adrien's nervous ears, to echo throughout Paris. He quickly backed up against a wall, just in case. As he pressed himself up against the walls of his house, he caught sight of what had fallen. His fencing sword, gleaming in the moonlight. Glancing both ways quickly, he darted out, grabbed the sword, and made a speedy retreat back to the shadows. The light off the hand guard caught his eye, and he saw his reflection again.

 _Wowza._

Falling from the bushes had done wonders for his appearance, ruffling his hair and shaking it out of its gelled-up waves. Now, it fell naturally around his face, and combined with his cat-like eyes, he looked… wild. Like he was a child of the forest and the wind, and he had fallen from their favor. He looked-felt-as if he had been born this way.

Adrien realized he was staring at himself and shoved the blade back into his belt. He had a mission, remember?

 _Help Ladybug._

And he would, he knew he would, except for the tiny little problem that had just smacked him in the face.

 _New mission: Find Ladybug._

He nodded solemnly to himself, then ran to the end of the street and peeked out. There were two options: wait until she called for help and try to trace it, or run all around Paris. There was only one logical path to choose, only one choice that could make a difference. He was smart enough to know which one was the right answer.

He took off running.

After a few blocks, Adrien started to regret running. There was absolutely no reason to, but he had wanted to find Ladybug as soon as he could. Unfortunately, he was in stitches. As he bent over, breathing hard, he couldn't help but think that this was the end, and that there was no need for gangs. His own body would be his downfall.

Before he could die, however, he happened to look over into the alley next to him. He froze. She was there, a canopy of leaves and wire criss-crossing above her.

Ladybug.

She was surrounded by men, bulky, bloodstained, bonebreaking. They came in from all sides, and the only thing that Adrien could see through the barrier of men were her eyes, shining in fear in the moonlight. He did the only thing he could think of.

"Hey, assholes!"

Every head in the ring stared at him, including Ladybug. Somehow, through his fear, he managed to stand his ground, though that was probably more from the fact that his legs were shaking like a toddler on caffiene. Clearing this throat, he broke the silence that had fallen. "Leave the lady alone, would you?" He smiled, the model smile that his father loved so much.

The _shink_ of the swords glimmering in the city lights certainly caught their attention, if nothing else did. The angelic smile turned into a devilish smirk. "What, no takers?"  
The group of men had been quiet the whole time, but now one of them spoke up. "Is that, uh, real?" He caught Adrien's eyes across the street, and shivered under the withering gaze of slit-pupiled eyes.

"Why don't you find out?"

Unfortunately, the bravado could only last so long. Slowly, but surely, the men realized that yes, they were much bigger and yes, they were a lot stronger than the kid who stood in the street. Eventually, one of them charged. Like bulls, the rest followed.

Adrien was still rooted to the ground in fear as the men got closer. The first one was thirty feet away, then he was twenty feet, then ten.

Adrien jumped. He bent his knees and leaped, higher than he ever had before. It felt...different, somehow, like the moon was fueling his flight. In slow-motion, the faces of the men turned beneath him, their mouths opening so wide it was comical. Then, it was over, and he was standing next to Ladybug.

He was standing next to Ladybug.

His brain might have short-circuted for a second, because this was her. The girl he had dreamed about. Her face was shiny with sweat, her leggings were torn, and she was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.

"H-hi," he said, because she was Ladybug, and she was really pretty and nice to look at and hard to talk to.

Ladybug turned to him, hand still in a fist from her last punch, and said very romantically, "Oh my god! You're Adrien Agreste, the model! Take me now!' She finished by fainting in his arms as the AKUMAs ripped off their work clothes to reveal bridesmaid dresses, and flower petals fell from the sky.

Somehow, all that came out as a, "Who the fuck are you supposed to be?" from the love of his life.

He started away from his dreams. There was a bead of sweat dripping down her temple, and a man in front of her that may or may not have been dead. She was angry.

"I'm your partner! I'm here to help!" He sounded like a child following their role model around and pretending to be them in a cheap costume. Or in his case, a designer costume.

She turned to the weird masked boy with the freaky eyes and sighed. "Look, I appreciate the help. But I have it under con-" Before she could continue, he shoved her out of the way as a knife suddenly appeared where her nose had been just a second before. Stunned, she glanced back at him from the ground to where he stood with swords crossed and jaw set, blocking the man from getting to either of them.

"Run! I'll hold them off!" He shouted without looking back, gaze focused on the man's and greeting his eyes with equal force.

Ladybug gathered herself quickly- _there'll be time for panicking later- and_ slid between the masked boy's legs, kicking the man behind the knife in the back of the knees as she went by. She ended up on the other side of the man as he fell, and waved her hand in front of his face too make sure he was out. Well, she called it waving. If the man had been conscious, he probably would have called it slapping.

She stood over him for a moment and watched the boy come closer. His costume was really incredible, if she was honest with herself. "Nice eyes," she called mockingly.

"Thanks," he tossed back as he stepped closer.

"Aren't they a bit overkill? No one could see you in that bandana anyways." She smirked.

He stepped over the body at her feet and was suddenly much closer to her. She could almost feel the rise and fall of his chest as he struggled to catch his breath.

"Well, you know, I am a famous model. Wouldn't want any of my fans to recognize me." He snickered, but his smile turned serious as a shadow fell over Ladybug. She turned around just in time to block a blow from the biggest grunt yet. She grabbed his arm and twisted it behind him, and with a quick pinch to the neck he was on the ground like the first man.

"Nice," came from behind her, where the masked boy was watching in awe. He ran up next to her as the rest of the men seemed to realize that they couldn't fight the pair.

Speaking of pair…

She turned on him, fixing him with what Alya called her 'mom stare'. "What do you want?"

His eyes widened under her withering glare. "W-what do you mean?"

"What do you want? It's a simple question." It was late, she had a test tomorrow, and she didn't feel like dealing with anyone.

He was quick to defend himself. "Nothing! I mean, I'd like to be your partner. It can't be safe, being out here on your own. I thought you might want someone to help out."

The tension was thick in the checkered shadow of the leaves above. A light on the left side of the alley was broken, and the shattered glass had been swept into a pile beneath it. There was graffiti on the wall, a spray-painted butterfly. She asked, "What's your name?"

He answered, "Chat. Chat Noir."

She snorted. "French? Really?"

He had the decency to look offended. "Hey, it's more interesting than 'Ladybug'. What are you, five?" He cracked a smile as he pointed a slim finger at himself. "Me, cat. You, bug."

She rolled her eyes, but it was affectionate this time, rather than patronizing. "Come on, we have to get these goons to the station."

Chat's face lit up. "Does this mean you're keeping me?"

Ladybug smiled. "I guess it does."

The next morning, Alya Cesaire snuck out of her room and walked to the police station, a notebook and a baseball bat in either hand.

The note was written in a different handwriting this time. More slanted, but neater. Black ink, not blue.

 _Hey, Miss Cesaire! Big fan._

 _My name's Chat. Chat Noir. I'm Ladybug's partner- I know. I can't believe it either. But if you want to interview me, ask 'em next time!_

 _Mwah, Chat_

This picture was a selife, taken on a bigger phone than the last one. It was a boy, with wild golden hair and- Alya blinked and checked again- cat's eyes. Next to him was Ladybug, laughing at what seemed like a joke blond boy- Chat Noir- had just said before he took the picture. She looked at the note again.

 _P. S.- What did the cat say when he realized he had a test tomorrow?_

 _You've got to be kitten me!_

Despite everything, Alya laughed.


End file.
